Disclaimer: Merely borrowing J. K. Rowling's lovely characters.
Status: Sequel to 'Thirteen Hours'. Subsequent chapters are already written and will be posted in 5 instalments, this being the first.
Friday
Chapter 1
Hermione was seated at her favourite corner, by the window of The Three Broomsticks. Tonight was one of the rare nights that the bar was empty. There were only three other occupants. A wizard sat at the back, downing flasks after flasks of firewhisky and a couple sat huddled together in a booth, sharing a large clear mug of some frothy pink fluid.
Her own hands were cupped around a mug of Butterbeer. She looked of the window. The sun was setting in the far horizon. It was a very apt and beautiful setting for the special occasion. It was Valentine's Day.
It explained why the bar was so empty that night. The Three Broomsticks was not the most romantic of places.
Wizards, dressed up as Cupid, were trawling the streets, cajoling the passers-by into buying flowers. The trees littered around Hogsmeade were bewitched to have leaves in the shape of the heart. Everywhere she looked, she saw pink and red; the colours of love. Couples flooded the streets, each pair so absorbed in their own private bubble of joy, it was almost nauseating. She remembered a time she had it too and she forgave them. It seemed like such a long time ago.
Hermione had always loved Ron, and she knew he felt the same way for her. On more than one occasion, she had even fantasised her name being imprinted on a hand of the Weasley's grandfather clock someday. It just took her some time to realise that they were never in love. A year and twenty days to be precise and almost a year had passed since then.
She remembered how it had all begun. Ironically, it had happened on the morning after…
She dropped the coat.
Her world was spinning. She could not see a thing, could not hear a thing and for a moment, she feared that she had become blind and deaf again. Her feet and hands were numb, her mind was on hiatus. She could not think straight. Then she heard someone calling, it was as if someone had splashed cold water on her face, and her senses returned.
'Anybody here?' Ron's voice echoed in the empty clearing.
Hermione ran out of the hut immediately.
'Hermione!' Relief coursed through him as he ran forward and caught her in a swift embrace.
''mione, oh 'mione. It's you! I'm so sorry, I'm so glad it's you who called for help. Good heavens, you're okay. I'm so sorry,'mione, I tried getting here faster, but the snow. Merlin, I shouldn't have left you alone,' he hugged her tighter.
His reaction upon seeing her now confirmed her earlier suspicions. It had not been Ron she had spent the night with. She grimaced. How could she have been so stupid? A wave of overdue emotions came crashing down upon her and suddenly, it became too much to bear. She started sobbing.
''mione, are you okay?' Ron released her and held her out at arm's length as he searched her body anxiously for any signs of injury or pain to explain her tears. He wore a worried expression when he found no visible wound on her.
'Oh Ron, I… I'm okay, I'm not hurt. I… I managed to heal myself. I'm just so glad to see you. I was afraid… I… I'm just…' He shushed her and hugged her to him again.
'It's okay, it's over. Harry, he killed him. Voldermort is dead! It's over, there's nothing more to fear,' Ron comforted her.
'I… I knew he would. I had faith in him,' she said, her sobs slowly subsiding. 'But… how? How had you found me here?'
'The red light you sent up! Harry said we should start looking for survivors. The snow could be hindering them from returning to headquarters, and we had received a couple of signals for help,' Ron explained.
Hermione slowly digested his answer. Red light? She had done nothing of the sort.
Malfoy. She thought. He had sent for help.
But before she could speak her thoughts, Ron had grabbed her two hands in his.
Hermione looked at him in surprise.
'I know now may not be the best of times, but I'm afraid I can't wait any longer. I just need to know now, I need to have you now. Hermione Jean Granger, will you be my girlfriend?' His ears had gone pink and Hermione was sure it was not from the cold.
Hermione's jaw fell open and she quickly recovered. 'Oh Ron!' She exclaimed, a bright smile replacing her look of surprise. 'Of course I will! Yes yes yes. Of course Ron! I love you,' she squealed as he lifted her off the ground and twirled her around in mid-air.
'Do you mean it?' He asked as he finally settled her back down. She nodded, giddy with joy.
Ron broke into the widest grin. 'I love you too, Hermione!
And at that moment, she forgot about what happened the night before. She forgot about the other boy. She forgot about the cold, the war, the coat. In the light of what just happened, they suddenly paled in significance. She was with the boy she had loved for the longest time. The boy who had now covered her lips with his. And at that point in time, it was all that had mattered.
He was the epitome of the ideal boyfriend. It surprised her though, for in their fourth year after the Yule Ball, she had overheard a conversation between Parvati and Lavender. The exact words had been – 'I suggest you don't go for him, Lavender. He's a stinking, clueless dingbat. A troll would have known how to treat a girl better.'
She guessed he had perhaps bribed Ginny into giving him a lesson or two in love.
They were the model couple, the perfect happy ending to the dark days. War Heroes Brave the Storm of Love. The Love Story: An exclusive interview with our favourite couple. Harry Potter's Sidekicks Fall in Love. Headlines after headlines, each cheesier than the previous, had tainted the pages of every newspaper and magazine. For several weeks, pictures of Hermione and Ron hugging had flooded the newsstands. The media adored them and they each had their fair share of fan mails and well-wishes from random strangers which were enough to rival their other best friend. The media had painted a perfect love story but it was far from the truth.
They quarrelled all the time.
'Good heavens, Ron! You can be so clueless sometimes, you know that? You don't hold my hand when we go out anymore, you never hold the door open for me anymore, you don't tell me I'm beautiful anymore, you never asked me where I would like to dine at anymore. It had become all about you! And all that was fine. I could close one eye, I could ignore them. But sex! You can't just leave like that! You can't just 'cum-and-go' all the time! I'm not just some cheap slut you patronise. And you still had the cheek to tell me I'm overreacting,' Hermione took a deep breath.' A troll would know how to treat me better!' She finished.
Ron looked like he had been slapped in the face. His face was red with anger.
'Go on! Go date a troll then! Is that what you were doing with one in the toilet back then? I'm sorry me and Harry interrupted. You think you know everything, Hermione! It's not like you've even had sex before me. You know what? You are such an insufferable know-it-all, and I've had enough!' Ron retorted angrily.
'And while we're playing the confession game, I might as well tell you.' Ron continued on. 'I have been seeing Lavender Brown. You remember her don't you? She's now the fashion editor for Witch Weekly and well, let's just say, she knows fashion,' Ron eyed Hermione up and down with a look of distaste.
Hermione gasped. Her hand had moved to grab her wand and she pointed it at Ron with a shaky hand. 'Get out, Ron.' She said in the calmest voice she could muster. 'Get out now,'
'You didn't have to tell me twice,' He glared at her and Disapparated.
That had been the final blow.
Of course they made up. They were best friends after all, and best friends forgive and forget. He had gone by the next day and apologised. He admitted that he had stretched the truth by a far bit. He had not been seeing Lavender Brown. He merely saw her on the few occasions when she had dropped by the ministry to meet Parvati for lunch. He had also hugged her and assured her that she was far more beautiful than Lavender and he would always love her, but he was not in love with her anymore. And she had accepted the apology, accepted the break up, had even helped him court Lavender, even though it tore her heart apart and she spent weeks after crying in bed. It was just in her nature to place others before herself. She had done it with her parents (they had been furious when they had found out), and she was doing it again, for Ron. He had moved on and she had, – still loved him.
'Never seen the streets so lively since the celebration after the war, huh,' Madam Rosmerta said behind her and blushed when she realised how insensitive that must have sounded to Hermione, who was alone on Valentine's Day.
'Yeah, it's beautiful,' she agreed, smiling at the older woman. She had been part of the celebrations after the war. And it was a massive event which dragged on for months.
The memories of the war always flashed in her mind accompanied by a myriad of emotions. A part of her heart ached for her fallen comrades, Neville, Luna, Lupin, Tonks, so many… Not dead, but resting. She reminded herself.
Yet another part mirrored Mrs Weasley's immense joy and relief. The entire Weasley clan had made out of the war, unscathed, save for George's missing ear and Charlie's burnt left arm. It had been dubbed a 'miracle' by The Daily Prophet. And it was a miracle indeed.
Another fraction relished the freedom Harry had earned for the entire wizarding world. The use of the name, 'You-know-who' had been abolished and Voldermort had finally become a mere nightmare of the past.
Finally, there was a portion where she spent a great deal of effort cleaving out from her memories. The reason behind her guilt each time she made love to Ron during the one year and twenty days; the excuse she gave herself each time she gave in to Ron's unreasonable arguments; her survival story; a frequent visitor to her dreams. It always made her wonder – what if…
She shook her head in an attempt to clear her mind. She had one too many butterbeers and all the lovey dovey atmosphere was messing with her head. She scolded herself mentally for forgetting that it was Valentine's Day today. She had grown used to being single but seeing happy couples often reminded her of how lonely she actually felt. Her friends all had someone; Harry had Ginny while Ron had Lavender. She sighed. She should have just stayed at home and watched television.
She placed some money on the table, waved goodbye to Madam Rosmerta and walked out.
A nice and warm shower would be nice. Following which, she would pamper herself with a new book she had bought. She thought to herself as she fumbled in her coat pockets for the keys to her apartment.
She stepped into her apartment and flipped on the lights. For a moment she stood paralysed with fear as she observed the mess in her small but cosy apartment. Then she grabbed her wand as instincts kicked in and moved silently into her apartment. Clothes were strewn everywhere.
She started as something furry came bounding up to her. She picked up the orange and white bundle of fur in her arms and as realisation struck her, she heaved a sigh of relief and laughed to herself.
'Dr. Peppers, oh, you naughty little kitten! Messing about in my wardrobe again, haven't you?' She scolded it. The little kitten she had bought from her last trip to Diagon Alley purred its affirmation sweetly.
Crookshanks lay lazily on the couch and eyed them with an expression of distaste. He was rarely friendly to any creature. The only friend it had willingly made and adored was Sirius.
Hermione let the cat down and it bounded about the house, knocking over a vase of flowers. Ron had chastised her when she had bought it. 'First a tiger and now this! Your taste in cats is atrocious!'
'Reparo,' she flicked her wand to the vase and started picking up her clothes.
With her wand, she folded her clothes and stuffed them neatly back into her wardrobe. She was about to undress when her eyes fell upon the coat she had missed. It was lying on her bed, surrounded by a trail of orange fur. She sighed. She had been teaching Dr. Peppers to not get on her bed. She cleaned the fur with her wand and picked up the coat to replace it in the wardrobe.
It was made of leather, and the insides were woven with soft velvet. The trimmings were exquisite and the buttons, they could be made of genuine silver.
And just like that, the memories came flooding back.
'I love you too, Hermione. Always have, always will.' She collapsed onto her bed.
I love you too, Hermione.The words were replaying like a broken record tape. I love you too, Hermione. Always have, always will.
She closed her eyes. Always have, always will.
She took a deep breath. I love you too, Hermione. Always have, always will.
Always have. She rubbed her temples. Always will.
Always have, always will.
She opened her eyes. Dr. Peppers was at the foot of her bed, purring innocently.
She was not one to dabble in fate, divinations, kismet, and the likes. She had proven this point when she walked out on Professor Trelawny in her third year. But her entire life, she had religiously played by the rules. If not for Harry and Ron, her life in Hogwarts would surely have been boring. It was time to take a gamble, to take a shot at what could have been. She had to stop ignoring the persuasions of her heart. She was no coward. She made up her mind.
Damned this Valentine's Day. She should not have gone out in the first place. She thought miserably.